The Truth About Fire and Ashes
by qtips rescue me
Summary: Because sometimes, the Phoenix doesn’t always rise from the ashes with wings. (GaaraSakura)
1. Prolouge

**The Truth About Fire and Ashes**

**Summary:** Because sometimes, the Phoenix doesn't always rise from the ashes with wings. (Gaara/Sakura)_  
_  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.

**Prologue  
**

She didn't think it was a good idea. At all.  
More over, saying that she was terrified, was an understatement.  
Having to hide it? A statement all it's own.  
Carefully, she climbed the metal strips known to most as steps that made a hollow sound as her weight was exerted upon them, her eyes irritated by the sand that whipped around where she had just come. Tears of pain were already forming in their red rimmed depths, and not just because of the weather outside.  
Temari glanced back at the Leaf girl, not quite capable of feeling sorry for her.  
He doesn't sleep at night. His temper isn't the best.  
Sakura, as if noticing she was just there, blinked, and paused on the step she just took. That's all you know about him? Her voice was uneasy. Temari was expecting that.  
  
As if this information handicapped her, Sakura gripped the cold, metal railing as she continued upward.

We are in contact with your Hokage, and I will come every Sunday to inform you of any events, changes and whatever... The blonde stole a glance at the door. He won't be happy having to baby-sit you all the time, so be careful. He has gotten much better with the year gone by, _Tolerable_ came to the Sand-nin's mind, but you know how he is...  
Sakura nodded, bleakly, even though she didn't know anything anymore, and couldn't find herself to thank her. How could she...? Even though the rational part of her mind told her it wasn't Temari's fault for all of this happening, but it seemed easier at this moment to find one solid person who she could see and hear to blame.  
I've gotta get going. Temari took her leave, looking uncertainly behind briefly as she took the sets of stairs by twos. She thought that maybe as she hit the floor, it wouldn't be the last time she'd see this girl again.  
But one could only hope.

Sakura almost didn't want to see anything past this door, but she knew it was the best.  
She was doing this for Sasuke-kun.  
But that didn't stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks.  
Seeing Gaara suddenly appear where the door must've opened-  
did. 

Gaara knew the situation; he was to protect a girl in high priority of Orochimaru, or more particularly, his apprentice. A warning from a spy had been received three mornings ago, that they heard her name in a conversation amongst common Sound nin. A conversation revolving around a certain apprentice and Kohona. Of course, the possibility of it actually being her was considered slim, but when the spy was killed moments later, the Hokage decided her best tactic would be to hide her somewhere where she would be safe and under cover.  
And so she wouldn't have to meet up with this apprentice if he should come.  
Now, that left a wide number of options. The Hokage, after some deep thought, chose the Hidden Village of Sand as her hiding place. As he understood it, it was supposed to be the best strategy.  
How he got stuck with her, was something he was not informed of.  
Perhaps that was done purposefully.  
So, Gaara of the Desert was expecting Haruno Sakura. He expected he would become a bigger threat to her than Orochimaru in the days that were to come.  
But, Uzamaki Naruto had a kind of attachment to her, and he owed him.  
When it became time, he crept toward the door, and heard the most unpleasant and disgusting of sounds.  
He was hearing her...cry.  
Immediately he opened the door, with force but lacking sound, and low and behold, raking gasps were escaping her throat against her will, and her back was hunched in the slightest way as to suggest she was trying to stand up straight like the strong person she wasn't.  
His eyes, rimmed with black, narrowed, his brow wrinkling.  
Gaara was expecting Haruno Sakura.  
But wasn't at the same time. 


	2. Chapter 1

**The Truth About Fire and Ashes**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto.

She looked up at him, her hands brushing her face in futile attempt to cover the inner storm in her mind and the residue it left behind. Sakura stood stiffly, not aware that Gaara's hard, smokey jade eyes depicted trembling of the hands she had stuck stubbornly at her sides.  
Words would not be wasted on her. The greeting, in his mind, was fine. Any kind of polite greeting, with him, was strange anyway.  
Gaara stepped to the side of his threshold, making an opening for her to pass through. Her eyes, still wide, searched his for some sort of reaction.  
  
Get inside. He interrupted, though softly. The sand, as if swaying by a hypnotic rhythm, hissed as it twirled around him like a cobra being lured out of it's basket. Sakura flinched, but when noticing that it didn't attack her, looked back at the Sand-nin. He waited patiently, his arms now crossed over his chest.  
She adjusted the strap of her backpack, and said,  
  
Sakura walked past him, brushing his clothing as she went. She shivered; not because he was cold, but because of the slightest warmth she found there.  
Taking in her surroundings as she slipped her sandals off, she made note of the kitchen; a rickety table set in the center, joined by a counter that stretched along a wall and burrowed into a corner. Few cabinets were boarded loosely above them, and a sink gleamed with confidence as a window chose to overlook it.  
To the left was a refrigerator that hummed gently, the tile below it, a rusty color, showing off it's white. To the left of that, a large window. The room was small, but a hallway was set straight in front of her, where the wall ended, the gap was made, and the counter started. Behind her was the door she just stepped through, and a few stairs that had patches of carpet missing.  
Sand also fancied itself in heaps around, and if one stared long enough, they'd ponder if it moved, like a beast settling into sleep.  
Gaara shut the door, avoiding her gaze and not meeting it once, before trekking down the dim hallway. When he paused at a door frame for more than a moment, Sakura knew she should follow. So she did.  
Trying to ignore the many marks and holes on the walls, she stood a little behind Gaara, who ran his hand over the door frame. It was then she noticed his gourd was missing. That would explain some things...  
Several seconds passed, (she was tired of counting) when she asked,  
Is this where I'm sleeping?  
He turned and looked at her with eyes that were clear and cloudy at the same time, and glared. It was as if she had just asked him to bomb his village.  
It's missing a door. He frowned, his arms crossing again.  
  
He gave her that look again. The room.   
She was still shaking, even after he passed her and opened a door across from hers, and shutting it with a quiet click. She decided, evenly, that he had the chance to kill her several times, making it apparent that he would not. Also, that she was tired, and every muscle in her body was screaming. Looking into her new quarters, she found it was clean enough, and small; with enough room for a bed and an old dresser to the side.  
Forgoing a shower and a change of clothes, she collapsed on the bed, despite it being dusk and still light out. Squinting, Sakura looked up at the wall by her feet, to find a little, uneven square that look as if someone cut it only days before.  
But her eyes widened as they looked down, and in the beginnings of darkness, saw some sand slither and halt on her floor.

Sakura waited at the counter, setting herself on a stool and letting her face slump into her loosely crossed arms.  
He was gone.  
The sand, however, wasn't.  
She didn't know what to think, except that she was hungry, and she didn't know whether or not she should cook something. She also missed her own home, her own life.  
But maybe...she didn't know what her own life was anymore.  
She had thought a large part of it was Sasuke. And he was. It was just so empty when she wasn't thinking of him, of Naruto, of Kakashi. So empty, in fact, that she wondered what kind of life would it be like, to live there, though her mind was dead. Was that really all she had to hold onto? Was a single person, who left her?  
Was that...all she was really worth?  
What has she been doing up until this time? Being...worthless...? Maybe that's why...  
Maybe it was her fault...  
The tears had already begun to form in her eyes, as her shoulders shuddered with some anger instead of pure sorrow.  
Is this all she has, crying? Crying like the worthless self she really was?  
Didn't...didn't anyone need her back there?  
Didn't anyone want to stop her from leaving, even if only temporarily?  
_Nobody_ needed her...?  
Even Naruto...she thought...she didn't know what she thought anymore.  
And she was so sick of not knowing anything like a stupid, stupid, worthless baby who sat and cried and  
and  
and  
thought Sasuke was still coming back.  
When he wasn't.  
Which made her hands clench into fists that had used to be used for healing.  
A cool voice said, and she jerked her head up, to find Gaara standing in the doorway, a solemn look on his features. It was so hard to read him. She suddenly felt exposed, and embarrassed for a reason she couldn't place. Looking away, she asked,  
  
Came his quip, unfeeling as he pulled from behind him a paper bag. He walked up to the table, and set the package down. Getting tossed a puzzled look, he explained in the utmost detail,  
Before retreating back outside.  
Sakura didn't protest, eyeing the bag carefully as her hand reached out timidly. 

It wasn't as if he cared about her personally. It was just that, seeing her like that, was all too familiar. Logically, if she was going to remind him of things he was trying to forget, she would be in danger if he should ever get angry in any instance.  
His mission was to keep her out of it.  
He sat on the roof above Sakura's head, letting the morning freshness caress his face. Even so, that girl was weak and pathetic. She would die soon enough.  
The thought was weirdly unsettling, as he shifted his position. He wasn't around the opposite sex often, and she intrigued him, how she could cry in front of him even though she was afraid of him. It was stupid, to open like that to your enemies.  
Whether all females were like that or not, Gaara didn't know. He didn't particularly care at the moment. Or ever.  
But it seemed, he reasoned, that they weren't enemies right now.  
And that she was going through a lot of pain.  
Pain, that brought up unnecessary memories. Memories that shouldn't have been.  
So he stayed on his rooftop, his eyes going distant with a numbness he was accustomed too.

Sakura dumped out the rest of the food from the bag, the items spilling across the counter. Some bread, a carton of eggs, and a container of fruit. She walked over to the fridge, and looked inside to find it mostly empty, save for the water, milk, and ham that was untouched. In the cabinets, silverware, plates, minimal flour, sugar, and more bread, all except the latter untouched.  
Frowning deeper, her eyes managed to blink without drawing on more moisture.

It was noon by the time Gaara reentered his abode, to find the pink-haired one taking something out of the metal thing in the counter, and a fresh aroma in the air.  
She said, cautiously, turning around upright. There, in her hands, was something he had never seen before. It's the closest version to french toast I could make... She blinked twice at him, and he found himself averting his gaze. I-It's food.  
He stood there, not moving, as if this alone would make everything freeze. Sakura found this a bit frightening, for he took this pose before, but set her creation of toast littered with a kind of strawberry syrup on the table. Glancing back at him once, she walked into her room, and sat down. And waited.  
Creeping around the corner minutes later, she sidled along the wall until she was sure he could sense her, and stood at the edge of the kitchen.  
He was still standing there, in the exact same position, staring at the offering almost suspiciously. Sakura frowned.  
It's...it's not that bad, is it? She would try to converse with him. He then looked at her with an unchanging stare, one that made a person's breath hitch in their throat.  
Or atleast hers.  
Then the sand that coiled around him lashed out and picked the pan up like a pair of hands, and brought it too him, where as he grasped it hesitantly before walking back out the door and out into the world.

She decided his reaction could've been worse. Atleast he took it. That look...it seemed so...  
It was hard for her to place it, but for that one second, he had opened a part of himself to her. It was almost as if he had rewinded to the past and had become a child in that one split droplet of time.  
Running a hand through her hair, and deciding accurately that she was exhausted and needed serenity, Sakura promptly took a shower. Even if she was mentally tired, her senses were always up and guarded for anything that may harm her. After all, Gaara had to be the person she was most afraid of. Setting aside Orochimaru, of course.  
Fifteen minutes later, a towel draped across her shoulders, her hair wet and messy from attempted to be towel-dried.  
As she stood in the hallway, looking at the battered kitchen, the girl mused over how rough and cold it looked.  
But then, two windows allowed light to flood in. One facing the east, one facing the west.  
Perhaps there was hope after all.  
Shifting her weight to one hip, she knew how little control she had over everything. And how much of a burden she was to everyone she knew.  
But there was a person she didn't know. There was a different place that she had to call home for awhile. She could control the latter by cleaning up, by making this place look as beautiful as she wished she was.  
Sakura choose to concentrate, almost entirely, on the latter.

I should start out with the kitchen, I think... She muttered to herself, overlooking the hefty task ahead of her. Still, it would give her something to do, save being in mortal fear of her roommate. But, Sakura was pretty sure there was nothing here to help her, so a trip to a store was necessary. And that meant...

Gaara had just finished eating the delicacy when Sakura crouched at the edge of his roof, her pupils still going small at the sight of him. Atleast the girl was trying.  
...You liked it? She asked, and he frowned in response. Yeah, anyway, I need some cleaning supplies, some paint, and some carpet. Do you know...where I could get it?  
You're not going anywhere.  
  
In the mission description, it said to keep you confined within this area, His charcoal rimmed eyes closed as he recited the document, his voice as flat as ever, the items you want are not within this area, therefore, you are not leaving. When he opened his eyes, she radiated what he perceived as immature anger, trying to restrain herself.  
But...but I'm trying to help you.  
Gaara's forehead wrinkled as his frown deepened,   
She looked desperate, crushed, almost.  
He repeated, and looked down at his empty dish. Sakura's head tilted to one side, her eye brows furrowing.  
I need to do _something_...please... She crawled toward him, her eyes becoming softer. His own eyes widened as she reached out to touch him, and in series of flashes running through his mind, he blinked and sand flew and-  
Sakura was knocked unconscious, sprawled across the roof tiles.  
His hand slipped over his face, sure he didn't draw any blood. He was long to used to smell.   
She wasn't the only one who trembled in the presence of another. He had tried to control these out bursts as well as he could over the past year, but for an obvious reason, no one could touch him without him losing that precious self control.  
Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and re opening them, he found the empty dish.  
He _would_ be hungry in a little while.

When Sakura came to with a slight headache, in the kitchen, she found a ton of the items she had requested beside her. Along with a paper bag.  
Sitting up, dazed, and not sure of what happened, she stood and put the heavy paper bag on the table. Looking inside, she found a metal pot, a box of raw noodles, and a various assortment of vegetables. Not able to hide her slight smile, she turned up the oven and filled the pot up with water. Glancing around, Sakura noted Gaara was not around. It was evening.

Gaara was sitting outside, his knees drawn up into his chest, when the girl crouched at the edge of the roof again, this time a bowl of ramen noodles with soup in her hand. He watched her closely as she set it down and quickly left, and it wasn't until a few minutes later he ate contentedly.  
Sakura was a strange person.

Inside, Sakura sneezed as she ate her half alone, planning to start on fixing up in the kitchen the next morning. Staring at the bundle of buckets of paint, tools, carpet sheets, cleaning products, wood, and newspaper, the Konoha female thought about Gaara...  
And windows. 

_A/N: Each new chapter will atleast have more diologue and drama than the next, so expect better next chapter. I just had to start things slow, and I hope I didn't go to OOC with any of them, especially Sakura. I wanted Gaara to change a bit and have a bit of a personality, but enough, thank you so much for taking your time to read and (hopefully) review my fic. Without you guys I'd be lost and miserable when I write._


	3. Chapter 2

**The Truth About Fire and Ashes**

_A/N: I'm sorry. My wrist was sprained badly on Saturday, went to E.R and got Express care (and by express care I mean two hours of waiting) and I just got the splint off today, so it was extremely hard and slow to type it one hand. Also, the computer I usually update from broke, so...this chapter is probably going to be shorter than most.  
_  
**Ch. 2**

For the first few days of fixing up Gaara's house, Sakura didn't see him unless she traveled to the roof to bring him a dish she made from the food sand seemed to drop off from a paper bag. On the fourth day, however, she was reaching for some nails when she jumped, seeing him sit in the corner with the most blank, cold look attributing to his features.  
She stuttered, her mouth twitching itself into a small smile. Keeping her focus on construction seemed to be easier on her emotional state of mind, overcoming thoughts of him and homesickness of Kohona. She'd go to bed tired, much to tired for anxiety to plague her mind, and wake up with the same routine.  
Sakura could say she almost felt proud of herself.  
He blinked, his eyes absorbing his new kitchen. Placidly, he looked back at her, her pale skin stained with bandages, mostly around her fingers. Atleast she wasn't trembling. But Gaara was unsure if that was a good or bad thing.  
He decided, simply, to watch her from a good distance. That way, he could determine if she was really setting traps in here, or planning an escape route. He also was puzzled as to her motive, why she would try and as she put it.  
The girl looked at him a moment longer, before picking up the nail between her slender fingers and applying it to the cupboard she was sitting on his counter to reach.  
His arms crossed, eyes narrowing. Her hands were clumsy, clearly not used to this work, and it was plainly obvious the hammer was going to miss it's target. He blinked again, and before she could cry out sand had established itself around the gleaming tool firmly, frozen above her other hand.  
Now she was shaking as she looked at him, unsure of what to think. He felt his own frown deepen.  
It would've hurt. His words stuck in the air, almost stinging it like a burn created from ice.  
She glanced at the hammer, hesitating, for she had let it go.  
Take it.  
She grasped it again, and the sand fell from it's spellbound, pooling like a puddle on the counter. They didn't say another word to the other the whole day.

The next morning, however, Sakura considered that he had something for a heart in that impenetrable body of his. Especially since, even how cold his eyes looked, something wavered there that made something stir within her.  
Perhaps she could try to actually talk to him.  
So she attempted, as she worked on the beginning of the holes in the hallway.  
He was watching her from the table, the sand arcing about his arms and hissing like a great serpent. She didn't particularly enjoy the feel of his eyes on her, but she was very much afraid of saying anything that may...upset him.  
  
He replied immediately, than looked away as she turned to look at him.  
As hard as she tried, she couldn't find something to talk about. Temari, she seems nice. She's coming in two days, if she's on time. Not hearing a response, she placed a board on the wall, measuring precisely. She's your sister, right?  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes flick pensively to their charcoal corners. Unknown to her, her voice was wavering, as if still in perilous fear.  
I never grew up with brothers or sisters...I am lucky enough to have parents, though. They always treat me like a little kid, but I guess...I'm lucky, in a lot of ways. You remember Naruto, right?  
Her question was acknowledged with the slightest nod she missed.  
He...he hasn't had any parents at all. I don't know what that is like, I won't for awhile, and at first, I thought he was luckier than I. Pausing to sigh, Sakura did need someone to atleast listen to her. It had seemed whatever she did say, didn't seem to matter much. She hated that. And she, like a normal person would, grew lonely and dreaded the thick silence that dripped everywhere.  
But I was wrong then. At the time, he didn't have anyone to tell him how or where or why. He didn't have someone to love or... Sasuke's words rang through her ears. Or to even hate. Even...even hatred is betting than having nothing. Because atleast then...you have something to hold onto, right?  
She turned and met Gaara's eyes, her own dancing back and forth, face flushed. Hoping for some sort of response, her hand tightened around a thin, rough board in her hand.  
Her question was acknowledged with the slightest nod, one she didn't miss, his face turning sour as he looked away. Turning away herself, she smiled a bit as she bent down to pick up a few nails. She failed to see his forehead wrinkle in what some may call anger, the direction unknownst to anyone.   
You probably think I'm just in the way, like everyone else, right?  
Gaara considered. He didn't mind watching her, a whirlwind of life and emotions, and he didn't mind the food she made. She was weak, so she wouldn't be hindrance to him, save for the fact he had to restrain around her. Her voice...her talking...was strange, how she'd want to talk to him at all when she was so afraid.  
The only thing that confused him, was how she could _not _be a burden to him.  
His eyes tore their gaze from her back, something that was gradually getting more difficult.  
He didn't answer her.  
She hammered in a nail and continued,  
Did you know I had a friend back home? I wouldn't call her a friend though...more like a rival. Lee-san is nice to me...Shikamaru is okay...Kakashi-sensei was my first teacher, but he seemed more like a father, as weird as that sounds...  
This became a sort of routine for them. Sakura would work, Gaara would watch from a distance and listen to whatever she mused about. He would always eat alone, though.  
Temari came one morning, rushing out of the door in embarrassment because she thought she was in a different apartment. Then, checking the number, she peered inside, to hear talking upstairs.  
-So whenever we'd go on a mission, Naruto would always try to look at Kakashi-Sensei's book. I didn't even want to look, really...  
Temari rushed up the steps, it must've been really bad if the girl was talking to herself. Losing her mind so quickly-  
Suddenly she got a face full of sand, and stumbling back, blinking, she realized Gaara was leaning against the wall, hands crossed across his chest. Frantically, she looked over at the girl, who was painting the wall, mouth agape and as shocked as the sand sibling was.

Gaara left by the time Sakura explained everything, the only trace of him ever being there was the sand that lay in small piles around, rippling with every vibration like some alien water.  
Tch, anyway, the Hokage advised that you stay here, and in an unspecified time passage will send someone else to stay here, as an attack is being planned-  
On Sasuke! Sakura cried, the paintbrush clutched close to her chest.  
And from the kitchen, Gaara's eyes narrowed in spite.

Night came, and as Sakura lay in bed, she heard footsteps. Knowing Gaara didn't sleep, she cracked her door open to make out his outline in the darkness. He was mumbling something, and hunched over. And she could've sworn she heard Sasuke under his breath. But not having time to think, his outline morphed and he yelled something incoherent.  
Sakura slammed the door shut, cowering on the ground. She heard more sickly yells and heard things tear and break under forces like toothpicks.  
And she could only gaze out the window at the incompassionate half moon, afraid to do anything at all.  
_Even hatred is better than nothing. Atleast then, you have something to hold onto, right?_  
Remembering her own words from earlier, Sakura's eyes squeezed shut, knawing her lip as something else was destroyed. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't scream. Her voice was lost amongst the fear and the demon just outside her door.  
Without her voice, somehow, she stood on legs that wobbled. Maybe, even without her voice, he would listen.  
Charging out the door that banged against the wall with a deafening thud, immediately he looked at her, a looming monster with evil, terrifying eyes.  
And somehow, even after her world went blacker than night, she still saw their golden hue.


	4. Chapter 3

**The Truth About Fire and Ashes**  
**  
A/N**: Thank you for reading and reviewing, you guys are the best. Another short one, I'm afraid. But I had to end it at the point that I did. ****

Ch.3  
**  
**When Sakura awoke, she noticed how she had not been moved from the hallway carpet. It was funny, she thought dazedly, how you noticed the small things as you came to from being scared to death. The textbooks didn't mention this. Sitting up proved a hefty challenge, maneuvering herself up halfway she looked around, wondering what time of day it was. Eye sight fuzzy, she blinked rapidly, until her mind seemed to function normally and memories came into existence.  
Springing to her feet, stars spun in front of her eyes, and she took a step to hit the wall in blinded confusion. Curing under her breath and brushing the hair out from her eyes, things came into focus slowly from her head rush. Stumbling forward, Sakura's breath suddenly hitched in her throat.  
It was almost as if the kitchen was like as it was when she first arrived here.   
Only worse.  
Everything was smashed, and boards were strewn out over the floor like a child who throws his clothes around his room. Sand was spread out everywhere, frozen like a sheet of ice. Large holes and knives fancied themselves upon the wall she painted just days ago. One window was tattered, it's newborn edges capturing the sunlight that wasn't so warm anymore.  
And in the middle of this was Gaara, the calm of the storm, sitting with his knees tucked into his chest, chin resting atop them. One hand spread itself along the floor, the fingers white from strain. The other covered his forehead, digging into his rich, stained red hair.  
Sakura stuttered, her legs apart for balance. Maybe it was the lingering dizziness, or the hammer that was only a few feet away, or the fact that she hadn't taken her shower yet. Whatever it was, it made her angry. Why! Why... did you do it? What did I ever do to you! I helped you,_ I_ helped _you_! I worked so hard for you, I tried, and I...I even...I thought...just because, just because you got upset, you forget everything and everyone else! There are people, who care about you!  
She couldn't see Gaara turn his head over her blur of tears.  
There are people, who think the world of you! And you're willing to throw that all away, just because, just because, you're upset about something! How could you do something like that? How could you...after all we've been through, how could you do that to _me,_ _Sasuke_!  
She would've turned and ran but sand had gathered around her legs and began to pull. She started to yell and scream, but she was lifted into the air and thrown unto the ground in front of him bluntly, sand tying around her arms and legs like rope. Fear and confusion and anger flooded and overdrove her system, and she could only look helplessly into his eyes, that were so human it contradicted his existence. He said cooly,  
I'm not Sasuke.  
She stopped struggling for a second, and remembered the sand, and remembered what happened to the kitchen, and shuddered.  
I am Gaara. He added after a beat, of the Desert.  
Pain shot through her body just now from the blow of being thrown. Wincing, she couldn't analyze anything as she was so caught up. The tears became dry on her cheeks, and finding Gaara's gaze again, she replied a bit more evenly,  
I know.  
You don't. He insisted, his knees still drawn up.  
  
You don't.  
You're not making any sense! How can I understand you when you don't talk at all!  
You don't know me. The sand constricted around her limbs, but Sakura held her breath and stayed still as Gaara's fingers tightened into a fist. You think I did this.  
She replied, carefully, and began to breathe as the sand fell to the ground.  
You should. Came the reply, which made Snow Country seem as warm as a desert. Precisely, he stood, and was gone, and it wasn't the sand around her that kept Sakura frozen there.

It took awhile, but Sakura finally stood up on legs that might have been Jell-O for all she knew. She thought she had told herself enough times to be careful, but apparently just then she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Looking around at the wreckage, she didn't feel like rebuilding all over again. But it wasn't as if she could just sit here, either.  
So, threading her way through the litter of boards and twisted metal, she went into the bathroom and turned the water on. She could hear the wind and dirt whip savagely outside. As the hot water slipped off her skin and the steam suffocated her, Sakura was confused to the fact why she was still able to breathe.

Three hours later Sakura walked out into the kitchen with a clear head and somewhat easier stride. She was hungry, and she was pecking around trying to find a paper bag somewhere. It wasn't until three minutes of prodding she realized there was no paper bag, there was no food, and there was no Gaara.  
It took her three seconds for her to understand, and three milliseconds for her to frown.  
But she couldn't figure out, why exactly, she was so upset.  
Grasping the doorknob that gleamed eerily in the soft light, the door felt heavier than her hand guiding it as she stepped through.

Shielding her face with her arm, and choosing wisely not to breathe through her mouth once she was outside, Sakura leaped up to where Gaara usually lurked on the tile top. Coughing as she stood there, and ignoring the small pebble that hit her neck, she noted Gaara wasn't there. Covering her eyes with one hand for an entire different reason, Sakura made it down to the ground blindly, wondering if that's what she's been doing this whole time.

She didn't sleep that night, her stomach growling kept her up. Drinking water constantly to fill her stomach, Sakura waited in the hallway, the space in-between the wreckage and her room, which wasn't really her room at all. She speculated, roughly, that it was around four in the morning when Gaara crept through the door. The faded, morning light was enough to make the blood that drenched his body glisten despite the sand that clotted it.  
Sakura didn't say one word, even as he stalked past her, the reek of death trailing in his wake. It wasn't until she heard the click of his door that she let herself gag and get up to walk everything out of her system. Feeling tired, it might've been what compelled her to trip over a piece of wood and hit the ground with a thud.  
But the pain Sakura felt amounted nothing to her surprised astonishment.  
Sitting squarely right in front of her face was a paper bag.  
It smelled like ramen.

Sakura would've asked him what happened, but she pretty much figured it out. After all, she had seemed to forgotten it was _Gaara_ she was dealing with. But something about him didn't seem right. He avoided her, and for the period of three days she didn't see him. Also, looking her in the eye, or even pretending to listen to what she said didn't happen anymore. Not that, really, she talked to him after that one morning.  
But today, he came home early, setting the paper bag down himself just as she was coming downstairs from the living room.  
I thought...you changed. She murmured, the words escaping her throat before she could stop them. At first, Sakura thought he didn't hear her because he had no response, but as she grasped the bag he said,  
You don't know.  
And Sakura, fear riveting through her veins, retorted,  
That's because you've never told me anything.  
Sand quivering dangerously on the ground. Gaara looked as if he were about to say something, but of course, didn't. His char coal eyes sunk shut as he turned away. She heard something drop as he left, and when she came over to inspect it, she dropped the paper bag, stunned.  
On the ground was a legendary kantana, wrapped perfectly in a long tongue that should've belonged to a human.  
But did. 


	5. Chapter 4

**The Truth About Fire and Ashes**  
**  
A/N**: The future of an update that is soon is in question, so hang in there. But, I have good news. (No, Geico has nothing to do with it) This chapter has the most dialogue of them all between Gaara and Sakura. Yay for dialogue! ahem Sorry...Anyway...  
Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I can't stress it enough.

**Ch.4**

Gaara knew that she would figure out the jist of what really happened. Not that he cared. Closing his eyes, scenes sprung from the depths of his mind from that night.  
_He didn't say a word as he walked down the hallway towards the girl's room, a looming figure in the darkness. In spite of it, Gaara was calmly at the mouth of the hallway, and not wanting Sakura to get involved, his sand quickly consumed the person's mouth as it swayed violently and tossed him into the wall. Gaara took several steps backward for defensive measure, his sand already racing to Sakura's door. When the figure slumped to the ground, back pressed to the wall, Gaara couldn't help but growl softly,  
  
The boy looked up, a sick smile on his face as he stood up, hunched over and breathing heavy from the blow. His eyes, glittering an unnatural golden color, they're attention was drawn away from Gaara and in that second the Sand nin saw Sakura standing there. Reacting quickly, the sand grabbed a board from the cabinet and chucked it at her, knocking her unconscious.  
He didn't understand her, and why she was so concerned about this boy who wanted to kill her...or worse. But he also didn't understand, either, why he didn't want her to see Sasuke. Or know.  
After making futile dashes around the kitchen as the sand crushed the walls and everything else in an attempt to catch him, Sasuke escaped through the window, shattering it. Gaara, after a moment, walked steadily to the window to find Sasuke moan in pain as something burst from his back. Taking advantage of the situation, Gaara set sand trickling to the Leaf traitor, knowing it was snugly in his pocket as he got away.  
More time passed, and one night he decided to follow where the sand had gone.  
_His thoughts were interrupted by a _tak, _the sound of a footstep on the tiled roof. And suddenly, Gaara knew why he did not want her to know. He almost couldn't look at her as she stood there, hand over her chest, features distorted. He almost moved as she came closer, stopping at four feet distance.  
He almost didn't want to believe he cared about how her hopes in Sasuke, as she fell to her knees, how if that hope was erased -  
She would stop. Everything.  
Sakura refused to cry, even though in her eyes he saw she might've been, and how the wind, though it carried no more sand, dirtied her wispy hair. Silence coated the air and pressed down upon them, and for a moment, the world could've stopped spinning and they would only notice the two birds interweaving above them.  
Strips of petal colored hair shielded her eyes as Sakura said,  
I...I wish I knew.  
Gaara's eyes flicked to their corners, cloudy.  
You don't.  
Gaara...I...I'm sorry. But... She looked up, not meeting his gaze. His arms were not crossed. Maybe, this time, she should believe him. She just had to know one last thing. Is he...did you...? He frowned, a curve an artist would draw.  
  
  
Gaara did not want her to leave, but he did nothing to suggest her to stay. The truth was, he couldn't kill him. He did not know or understand why, so instead, he tried to kill Orochimaru. He could not, of course.  
There was a lot of things, since Sakura came, he could not do.   
On her own she stood up and walked, and he thought that maybe, maybe, she would see that it wasn't Sasuke who she leaned on to take those steps. 

Sakura did not have dinner waiting when he stepped inside that evening, the paper bag on the floor, untouched. Gaara's eyes narrowed, black rims sculpted around them following suit of the tense muscles in his cheeks.

It was just dusk when Sakura heard her door open, the click not enough to arouse her from lying on her side. Even though it was a hazy dark, she could feel his shadow embrace her, and yet he felt far away, for she could not feel him at all. After a few moments she rolled over, cautiously, and found the small hole in her wall letting in the orange, reddish light in a concentrated shape and area, soaking Gaara's face in color.  
What is it? She formed words on her lips, dry.  
You haven't made dinner.  
I'm...I'm not hungry. She paused and smiled fakely, a bit. I'm on a diet.  
I'm hungry. He persisted. The sand hissed around him. And so are you.  
She rolled back over, the mattress squeaking in protest. He left swiftly and quietly.

He came back, the sand setting the bag of food on her mattress. She strained her neck and looked over her shoulder at the parcel, and then at him, who leaned against the wall with his head tilted away, arms crossed in his signature position. He lay away from the square of reds and oranges, and resided in misty shadow.  
A bird called outside, slicing through the thick, eerily air.  
We're both hungry, aren't we? She inquired dully, head dipped low, sitting up.  
Gaara didn't answer her.

Sakura's dreams were haunting that night. She dreamt of a desert with tall, scorched black towers, with thick, white water that was tumbling down dirtied gutters that were only licked by flames. She was trapped, paralyzed, unable to move in her own body. The gutters burst apart, and the milky water kept coming, and coming, until it consumed her, whiteness that seemed so dark.  
And then, in a milk white mirror, she saw herself, blotches of her eaten away by the murk. Her reflection was blind, the whites of her eyes hurting her own, and she was stumbling, going nowhere. Sakura herself tried to run, but she was drowning, drowning, and she reached for someone, something, and saw Gaara and his coal eyes.  
But his eyes were white.  
She sat up, sweating, eyes wide. Breathing a sigh of relief, and feeling something next to her, she whipped her head around to find Gaara standing there. She gasped, struggling against her blanket, her heart beating against her ribcage like a captured bird. Just as she was about to stand, sand cradled her forcefully into the air as he spoke,  
A nightmare. It's only a nightmare. Sakura couldn't tell if he was mocking her or comforting her, or neither. But with each sway closer to the ground she began to feel calmer. Finally she felt solid beneath her feet, and she scratched her neck awkwardly.  
  
There could've been danger. The mission entailed I come.  
  
They stood. And stood.  
Uh...I'm kind of tired. She offered lamely. Gaara, however, did not know this type of situation was considered uncomfortable. His brow knit together tightly.  
No, you're not. He knew, atleast, what nightmares were. Only to him, they were rare, and they were his dreams. If by nightmares people meant _Sabaku_.  
How do you know? Don't you...I mean... Her weight shifted, emphasizing her insecurity. She was worried, he was sure, and she was walking on eggshells around him. Not like before.  
He was angry, for a reason that switched from why he cared (and he didn't,) to a reason why she was being so...delicate, as if he were like glass she was handling.  
I'm sorry. Sakura whispered. She was always good at hiding what she felt. It's what she did.  
Don't. Just stop. He said unusually, then he clutched his head, tugging at his hair.  
Ripping tenderly.  
He turned to leave, when she took a step forward.  
No, wait Gaara. I'm...I'm not really tired.  
He turned around, knowing she couldn't see his expression. His hand slipped over his forehead, over the mark engraved there. Somehow he found the wall and leaned against it, as Sakura sat on her cheap mattress, the covers astray. He watched her brace herself, as if she was teasing a snare about to snap.  
Why don't you sleep? He choose not to respond. I...I want to know about it...I want to know, Gaara. Why can't you tell me? I know...your terrifying. You scare me. But you know...I think that's okay. Because Sasuke, he scares me too. Even Naruto sometimes. I think it's okay, because it's the fact that you've given the effort to scare me, you've already shown me...you've already shown me you care to some degree, atleast a little, a small bit.  
He looked at her hard, the veil of darkness difficult to penetrate. You're wrong. I care about only myself. I have a monster inside me I have become.  
But...if you're such a monster...Gaara?  
It took him a second to process she wanted him to respond.   
Just now...weren't you?  
He left without reply, hand shaking as he went.  
He was ripping. He was ripping apart so tenderly.

So, do you prefer the cream, or the light blue? Sakura held up the different paint cans. He frowned and looked away. Oh come on, you can't even pick this out? She scolded, setting them down. He said icily in a tone that would frighten many,  
I don't care.  
Ignoring him, her hands settled on her hips as she examined the walls. I guess it can wait. I have to patch the walls up first. Alright, where's that hammer...  
Sand came in a wave and brought it to her. Smiling a bit, her mouth opened to thank him, but he was gone. Sakura reached to pick up some nails, overturning a dry board to find them. Not successful, she overturned another, reaching down gratefully.  
Things weren't always where she thought they were. 


End file.
